


What happens in New Orleans...

by SailorMarelda



Series: SM's Daminette Oneshots/Short Stories [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Immortals After Dark - Kresley Cole, Maribat - Fandom, Miraculous Ladybug, Superboy (Comics)
Genre: Alcohol, Brotherly Kidnapping, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Mention of loss of virginity, Multi, No Real Debauchery, Spoilers, Stand alone story, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:55:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28576347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorMarelda/pseuds/SailorMarelda
Summary: Someone is turning 21 years old, and somebody's brothers feel the need to celebrate... what could ever happen? Well, in the Big Easy the possibilities are endless.
Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Damian Wayne, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne
Series: SM's Daminette Oneshots/Short Stories [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042920
Comments: 18
Kudos: 57





	1. Nothing to see here.  Just some felonies.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, it goes without saying, I don't own any rights to the characters/worlds within this story. They obviously belong to their respective creators/writers/companies. 
> 
> Again, thanks to ozmav for starting this crossover fandom/ship that some of us can't seem to escape (not that we want to) from.
> 
> Again, thank you to the wonderful people of the internet for filling it up with information, without which I couldn't write stuff (unless I leave the house and go to a library (when they aren't closed due to what's occurring))!
> 
> I think this is a fun story but if I'm missing tags/warnings please let me know. Hopefully, I don't need to give Trigger warnings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone is turning 21 and they're going to celebrate it - whether they like it or not!

Somewhere in the Big Easy

“DAMIAN!!!” the plaintive wail blasted from the mobile when the owner answered the call without looking at his screen. His mistake. He knew better than to answer a call without checking the caller’s identification, and now he, or rather, his poor eardrums were paying the price for his misstep. 

“Where are you?! I came to the manor to give you your birthday present.” Thankfully, this was not a video call or else Damian would be subjected to the whimpering puppy dog expression of Jonathan Samuel Kent, his best friend. 

_Ah, yes. My birthday. My 21 st to be precise. _Damian thought. Still simmering in rage over the indignities his older brothers, well, mainly Jason, inflicted upon him this day…

**🦇🐞🦇🐞🦇🐞🦇🐞🦇**

A particular manor house on the outskirts of Gotham City, USA a few hours previously

Damian was stretched out on his bed reading a report on one of the open cases in preparation for tonight’s patrol, absentmindedly stroking the velvet soft ears of his black Great Dane, Titus. His bedroom door suddenly burst open and his three older brothers surged in. Coming to alert Damian grasped the short sword mounted on the side of his bedside cabinet and launched himself over Titus, ready to combat whatever nefarious adversaries followed his brothers.

Tim and Dick launched themselves at him, managing to avoid becoming skewered on the sharp blade. Titus managed to jump out of the way as his master was pinned to the bed, a brother on each arm. He started struggling. “You’ll only get one warning: get off me, Grayson! Drake!” he growled, not realising the immediate danger was coming towards him. 

Jade eyes turned to the most unhinged of the Wayne brothers; Jason, who approached Damian with a malicious (mischievous?) glint in his icy blue eyes; opening a roll of duct tape. “Don’t worry, Demon Spawn. We’ll take extra special care of the birthday boy.” Damian’s eyes widened in shocked at the pronouncement.

**🦇🐞🦇🐞🦇🐞🦇🐞🦇**

Alfred paused in his dusting of the banister of the sweeping staircase of Wayne Manor’s foyer. He could hear a commotion making its way to him. The long-suffering butler/surrogate grandfather watched as the eldest three sons descended the staircase towards him. Tim and Dick were carrying small travel bags while Jason carried a struggling, bound and gagged Damian.

“Don’t wait up, Alfred,” Jason said as they passed. All ignoring the muffled requests of intercession from the birthday boy. “Tonight, Baby Bats becomes a man.”

“Which hospital/police station shall I tell Master Bruce to be expected to attend?” the stoic, crisp English voice enquired.

“That’s on a need-to-know basis, Alfred,” Dick interjected. “Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of Baby Bird, and we’ll be back in time for tomorrow night’s 21st Birthday gala.”

“I shall endeavour to reassure Master Bruce of your safety. However, what about your patrol responsibilities?”

“All sorted, Alfred,” Tim said while readjusting his hold on his and Damian’s luggage. “The girls are very understanding about Bros-Bonding-Time and are covering for us; plus, Big Blue volunteered should the need arise.”

“Very well, Master Tim. Please be sure to come back in one piece,” Pennyworth said sighing, despite his fervent wish they came back as they left, he knew his grandsons’’ penchant of getting into scraps – scraps mostly generated between themselves.

“Can’t make any promises on that front, Alfred,” Jason replied, not even winded from hefting his youngest brother around on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Oh. Demon Spawn requests if you would so kind as to take care of his babies. Thanks, Alfred!” Jason finished on a grunt as the hostage/birthday boy managed to get a kick in that proved to be a little too close to Jason’s ‘delicates’.

The front door slammed on the four, as the untethered three bade the Stewart of the House of Wayne farewells. “Heaven help their destination,” Pennyworth entreated the universe.

**🦇🐞🦇🐞🦇🐞🦇🐞🦇**

Somewhere in the skies south-west from Gotham 

The Wayne jet winged its way to the chosen destination of the brothers – the birthday boy having not been consulted at all. Once the jet reached cruising altitude, the three started to move around the cabin. Damian glaring at them all the while. 

The pilot shivered as if someone walked over his grave. Thank goodness he contacted Mr Wayne immediately when he saw that the brothers had hogtied the youngest. Mr. Wayne sighed and reassured the pilot that nothing untoward was occurring, that this was how his sons interacted with each other; high jinks and bravado, which their father fervently wished would have been reined in by now as the elder two were slowly making their way to their 30s. Alas, the gods (if he believed in that sort of thing) continued to deny him peace of mind when it concerned his brood of children.

Dick and Tim rooted around the galley for refreshments, while Jason approached the bound and strapped-in Damian, withdrawing a hunter’s knife from his left jacket sleeve. Cutting through the bounds, Jason looked down at the freed, irate young man; awaiting the inevitable attack. He was surprised when all that Demon Spawn did was remove the duct tape and rubbed at his wrists, glaring up at the second eldest, silent retribution promised in those jade eyes.

Shrugging, Jason turned and went to the galley to grab a beer, passing an excitable Dick and a fatigued Tim. Sitting down beside his youngest brother, Dick passed him a champagne glass, while Tim drew out the table to spread out the snacks and remaining glassware on. Damian staring stubbornly out the window, ignoring the two; his displeasure at their antics evident.

Pulling the cork, Dick didn’t anticipate the spout of champagne drenching himself and the birthday boy. Damian sat up straight in his seat in reaction to the drenching. He closed his eyes and breathed in slowly so as to corral the automatic burst of rage that bubbled up within him. _Do not lose your temper, Master Damian. Your brothers are trying to do something nice for you_ , the disembodied voice of Alfred counselled him. _Too lose your temper will seem childish and ungrateful_.

Opening his eyes, he shook off his soaked hands and stared at Grayson, who bashfully apologised. “Sorry, Little D. Don’t worry; we packed plenty of clothes and you can have the shower first.” Dick proceeded to fill-up the flute and handed it to Damian. Motioning for Jason to join them, the second eldest came stomping up from the galley, cold beer bottle in his hand and threw himself into the seat beside a spaced-out Tim, who was looking at the champagne glass in his hand as if he didn’t recognise what it was. The young CEO was coming up to day three of not sleeping.

Dick cleared his throat to bring the group to order. And put his arm around Damian. “Damian, it has been an honour and a privilege to watch over and guide you these last eleven years. To watch you grow into a kind-hearted (“Somewhat.” [Jason]), well-adjusted (“That’s debatable.” [Tim]) young man has brought me great pride (“And indigestion.” [Jason]). I know at times our little family (“Little?” [Tim]) is disfunction but never forget that you are loved, and we will always have your back. I love you, Damian. Happy 21st Birthday. Today you become a man.”

The three brothers toasted the sullen looking birthday boy and began to drink their champagne.

“If ‘becoming a man’ is a euphemism for losing my virginity, I have been a ‘man’ since shortly after my 18th birthday.” A little spark of self-satisfaction settled in Damian as his three brothers spat their drinks all over each other in shock over his announcement. Standing up Damian knocked back the champagne, stepped pass Dick and strode to the back of the jet to make use of shower facilities, leaving three stunned faces to follow his retreat.

**🦇🐞🦇🐞🦇🐞🦇🐞🦇**

A few hours later

(After a long Q&A session in which a freshly showered and dressed Damian did not cooperated at all, the jet finally arrived at their destination.)

“HELLO, NEW ORLEANS!!!” (Dick)

“Laissez les bon temps rouler!!!” (Jason)

Damian cringed as his slightly tipsy brothers stood up through the sky window of the stretched limo heading down Canal Street, hollering greetings to the city and passers-by, as they headed to their hotel in the French Quarter. He was thankful that the other windows were tinted so that he was saved from the embarrassment of being associated with the raucous cretins. Tim, not joining in the so-called festivities as he was napping, stretched out on one of the long seats, was oblivious to the antics of the two eager partygoers.

Dusk had begun to set. The plan was to drop their luggage in their hotel suite before heading to the 5-star vegan restaurant that Dick had to book five months in advance. Jason was still grumbling in the restaurant about no meat lining his stomach. He perked up when Dick, ever the peace maker, informed him that there was a little famous grill nearby on Bourbon Street. 

Again, more salutations to the birthday boy and speeches ripping the ‘snot-nose kid’ he was. Damian was amused by the sickening sentimentality of the speeches, especially as he remembers with perfect clarity how life was growing up within the pressure cooker that was the Wayne/Bat Family. That and his brothers were slowly becoming inebriated, whereas he still remained in crystal clear control of himself, his Shadow training serving him well. He foresees plenty of photographic/video material coming into his procession; retribution for the stunt they’ve pulled this day will be swift and embarrassing.

Having finished a surprisingly pleasant meal with his brothers, i.e., it didn’t devolve into childish food throwing, and the (grumbling) meat eater had his hamburger needs met, they strolled through the crowded, brightly lit thoroughfare of Bourbon Street. Damian felt irritation rising within him at the drunken revellers being so close, especially those who he was related to.

Jason was hollering up at scantily dressed women, who were watching the crowds from their balconies, trying to entice passers-by into their dens of ill-repute. Dick waved up at them in a conciliatory manner. Tim could not hide his blushes. Damian felt tension started to gather at his forehead as the crowd became thicker the closer to the centre of Bourbon they became.

“OK, Demon Spawn. Which establishment do you wish to experience your second rite…uh, third rite of passage (the alcohol rite having already being completed as soon as they left Gotham, and the first remains unknown)?” Jason asked, his moved his hand in a sweeping gesture to indicate the ‘gentlemen’s clubs’.

“Tt. Jason, you have known me how long? And you think I would deign this place with my presence?” Damian’s disgust at the proffered activity was evident, crossing his arms in resistance to the night of debauchery his older brothers thought he would appreciate and approve of. As the four reverted to old habits of childish bickering (thankfully Dick put an embargo on weapons being brought to the Big Easy) about where to go, they failed to notice lightening flickering across the skies above them. They did hear, however, a bolt landing and knocking off the power to buildings heading to the Canal Street quarter end of Bourbon Street, and crowds started to move towards the lights.

“Karaoke?” Tim suggested, spying a sign nearby. Damian reluctantly agreed, wanting to get out of the ever-increasing crowd, and the group started making their way towards the nearest karaoke bar that sat on a street corner, a biker bar sat on the opposing corner. As the power quickly returned, the crowds started to make their way back up towards the effected area. Jason noticed a group of petite ladies making their way towards the karaoke bar, some breaking from the group to head to the biker bar. There was something about the women that enthralled him. He stopped as he was certain he heard swear words and audible groans coming from both establishments as regulars and staff began to recognise the newly arrived patrons.

He took a step forward and almost trampled on a diminutive figure that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere in front of him. “Oops, sorry, didn’t see you there,” he apologised amicably but stilled as the golden eyes stared up at him vacantly. The petite, unearthly beautiful woman remained silent as she took Jason in, as if analysing him under a microscope. She eventually smiled up at him and said, “Very gentlemanly of you, Hood. Though I’m not surprised you can see anything from way up there, or through that stupid hood or with that Pit cloud following you around.”

Jason took a few steps back to assess the danger before him. His brothers fanning around him, hearing what she said. The woman wore a pink T-shirt with “Goddess of Accession” in gold lettering. Someone had handwritten “(Approval Pending)” in black below it; low-riding artic-fatigue combat trousers were finished off with neon yellow flip-flops. Her long, thick raven hair was braided and fell to her lower back, covering her ears. _Wait. Are those elf ears? Is she cosplaying_? Jason thought as he spotted cream, pointed helix peeking out from the sea of blue-black.

“Bertil, come and say hello to your brothers,” the woman called out. A bat crawled out from under her braid and chirped at the brothers. Even for Damian this was a bizarre occurrence. The bat took off and flew around them, landing on top of 21 year old’s head.

“Uh, ma’am, have we met?” Dick tentatively addressed her.

“Dicky boy, you wound me,” the woman wailed dramatically, tilting her head back, bringing the back of her hand to her forehead, as if she was about to collapse like a blushing, Victorian miss succumbing to the ‘vapours’.

“How’s wee Mar’i? That kid cracks me up!”

“Who?” Dick asked in confusion.

“Wait… what day is it? Actually. Never mind. I don’t care,” she said, waving a hand as if she was being bombarded with questions. She looked at her nails and began buffering them on her shirt. “So, Timmy needs to get his Jagged Stone groove on? May I recommend a new little karaoke bar not too far from here.”

“Actually, we were about to go to…” Jason pointed to the one they were about to enter if they managed to extract themselves from this screwball situation. It unnerved him that she was making insinuations to their alter-egos, but the safest way to maintain anonymity is to ignore and deny the veiled remarks.

“Come, come, Jay-Jay. You know I prefer Nucking Futs,” she chided, wagging a finger at him, as if she read his mind. “Besides, that place is a mess, after all that bar room brawling that went on.” All four looked at each other, looked at the pixie in front of them, looking at the crowded but so far rambunctious karaoke bar. When all of a sudden:

“FIGHT!” The place erupted into violence which spilt out into the streets, spreading to the biker bar.

“Uh, guys, Bruce and Alfred will kill us if we end up in the slammer and miss the birthday gala,” Tim advised, stepping out of the way of a flying beer bottle. Damian was tempted to throw himself into the melee just to avoid said gala.

The pixie lady squealed and jumping and clapping with enthusiasm at the anarchy unravelling before her. “We gotta get outta here, guys,” Dick warned as mounted police and sirens could be heard coming closer. Jason saw some of the strange, captivating women he saw before amongst the crowd, seemingly having the time of their lives. The crowd started surging as they made way for the responding law enforcement. Damian grabbed the bat off his head, luckily Bertil didn’t bite in retaliation, and cuddled the winged mammal to his chest. Jason hauled the pixie over his shoulder, taking her out of harm’s way, they started making their way down the opposite side street, heading towards the river. The pixie yelled directions to people in the crowd. “Myst, behind you! Take out his knee, Ree-Ree. Luu-Luu, duck, now left…oof, your other left!” all the while clapping in joy.

The brothers quickly exited the vicinity so as not to get pulled into the street brawl, leaving it for the local cops to restore the peace. Once they were a few streets south of the ruckus, they stopped. Jason gently placed the peculiar woman on her feet, the others coming to his side, Damian unconsciously petting the bat. The woman stared up pass Jason into the night sky, smiling at something that only she could see.

“You’re in luck, birthday boy,” she said, not looking at Damian. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a business card and handed it to Jason. He read:

**_Phenïx_ **

**_Nïx the Ever-Knowing_ **

**_Predeterminationally-abled Proto-Valkyrie_ **

**_Leader of the Vertas_ **

**_Goddess of Accessions_ **

**_(Approval Pending)_ **

**_Match-Maker_ **

Turning over, he read:

Val Hall

New Orleans

Louisiana

USA

**A handwritten note below the address read:**

But you boys need to go to

Sing to Your Heart’s Content Karaoke

Looking up, he jerked, the space in front of him was empty. They all turned surveying the street around them looking for the pixie woman. Damian looked down and jolted in surprise. His hands were empty; Bertil gone. In the distance they could hear feminine giggles ringing out in tandem with flashes of lightening across the night skies. They all looked at each other, wondering what the hell they just experienced/witnessed; and they have seen plenty of the weird and wonderful with their Bat Family roles and branching out to other teams and the Justice League.

Coming a decision and reaching for his phone Jason searched for the suggested karaoke bar. 

_Well, never let it be said that I didn’t have the balls to go down this rabbit hole_ , he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laissez les bon temps rouler! - Let the good times roll! The (un/official) motto of New Orleans.
> 
> Hopefully this is a good start.
> 
> The idea for this short story came to me as I watched one of those 'celebrity moments gone wrong' shows on New Year's day while doing my cross-stitching.
> 
> One scene was Marinette singing 'Like a Prayer' at karaoke. (Frig! I miss karaoke.) I know she's a bit young to know the song but it's one of my go-to songs for karaoke. That and: Queen's We are the Champions & Bohemian Rhapsody; Journey's Don't Stop Believing; Bon Jovi's Living on a Prayer & Always (Love that song - wish someone would do an MLB or MariBat animate to it); Howl's Moving Castle's Sekai no Yakusoku; I can go on and on. XD
> 
> The next scene was of Daminette meeting.
> 
> So the story took off from there.  
> NOLA: because I love the city. Been there three times for short stays, I mainly stayed around the French Quarter, that's why I stuck to that area. With picking NOLA, Nïx popped up to make an appearance.  
> Seriously the story snowballed from there.  
> You can read more about Nïx and her sisters, and their world, in the Immortals After Dark, an urban/supernatural/romance/adult series (I think that's how it is categorised), by Kresely Cole. If this is not appropriate for your age, or you're not into that sort of thing, avoid it!  
> I could have went with Sherrilyn's Dark Hunter series (same category and warning) but I've missed Nïx. Plus I think she might be able to help me with the bigger story I have floating around in my head - which still requires a lot of background reading so don't expect that any time soon.


	2. "You can't marry a man you just met."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somebody meets somebody. Whatever is to be done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The writer humbling requests that you, the reader, suspend your disbelief with this story. Should have said it in the last chapter, too. But then don't we all need to do that when reading any type of fiction?  
> Suspension of Disbelief: https://www.oxfordreference.com/view/10.1093/oi/authority.20110803100544310
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> BTW:  
> Damian - 21 years old  
> Tim - 23 years old  
> Jason - 26 years old  
> Dick - 29 years old  
> Bruce - early 40s  
> Alfred - Classified

Sing to Your Heart’s Content Karaoke Bar, French Quarter, New Orleans

Damian sighed in annoyance as his brothers cajoled him into entering the small establishment, not far from where the odd young woman and her pet bat vanished. He read from the sign at the door that the bar allowed 18 – 20 year olds in but warned of an identification bracelet system so that alcohol was not to be served to them or any members of their party even if that member was of age, and that those within that age group must vacate the premises by 11p.m.

That lady was an enigma, but not one for he and his family to investigate at present. This wasn’t their jurisdiction (not that it would stop them in the first place), and the brothers reverted back to their original programming ‘MUST CELEBRATE DAMIAN’S BRITHDAY’, brushing off the encounter as one of those ‘only in New Orleans’ occurrences. He started rubbing his forehead in exacerbation; _is this how Father feels when dealing with us; tired and vexed_? he thought.

Shoved into the karaoke bar by a well-meaning Dick, Damian saw that the bar was not as crowded as the establishments on Bourbon or those in immediate adjacent area to the main hub of the French Quarter. He scanned the crowds, sectioned off in small groups; one particular boisterous group in an alcove to the left of the bar drew his attention, with their loud conversations in French, most were wearing the florescent yellow wrist bands of the 18 – 20s. Approaching a quiet empty space at the bar, Damian winced as he sat on a bar stool as his ears were assaulted by someone’s rendition of the latest chart topper. Ordering a merlot, he watched as the singer finished their song and the audience clapped. _Clapping in joy that their torture is over_? That thought must have flitted across his face, as Dick commented, “They are clapping because the person was brave enough to get up and gave it their all and had a good time.” They watched as the amateur gave an awkward smile and a wave as they descended from the stage. The MC calling for the next participant. Shrugging, Damian turned back to his wine but was interrupted as he reached for his wine glass by the furious vibration of his mobile.

🦇🐞🦇🐞🦇🐞🦇🐞🦇

“DAMIAN!!! Where are you?! I came to the manor to give you your birthday present,” Jon wailed down the phone at him.

 _Great. The niggling headache is now a full-blown migraine. A red and blue migraine._ “I am sure Alfred was forthcoming in telling you that my brothers saw fit in kidnapping me to make me celebrate my 21st birthday in such a way I would never pick.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Jon whimpered down the phone at him.

Sighing, Damian reached for the glass and sipped. “I’m in New Orleans…”

“I’m on my way!” Click, the disconnect tone drone into Damian’s ear. Closing his eyes, Damian prepared himself for the whirlwind of energy about to land on him.

“Who was that?” Tim asked, breaking from conversation with Jason, the pair starting on pints of beer.

“Well, this expedition wouldn’t be complete without a boy scout for you to corrupt, now would it?” Damian quipped as he put his phone away. As he did so the door burst open and a tall, black haired young man (who was dressed more for a honky tonk than a karaoke bar) launched himself across the room and hugged Damian from behind. Which caused the birthday boy to stiffen in distaste at the public display; he about managed not to hiss like an enraged cat at his friend. He could hear “Aw”s and giggles from the witnesses. One of the French tourists said to their group, “Must be his boyfriend.”

“Why didn’t you invite me, Damian?” Jon said, moving round to pout in his best friend’s face.

“I didn’t invite you because I didn’t know about it. I wish I wasn’t invited,” Damian grouched.

“Well, never mind. I’m here now. And you’re going to have to wait for your present. I left it back in Gotham.”

“Up next… MDC,” the MC continued on with their duties, the scene created by Jon quickly forgotten by the crowd.

Damian reached for his wine glass again and stilled as he caught a whiff of cinnamon and flowers in the air. Turning to his right he saw the back of a petite young lady with raven hair that cascaded like a blanket of night to her midback. She wore a red summer dress and black pumps. Tim was also captivated by the figure as she ascended to take the mic at centre stage. “MDC?” he whispered, hope in his voice.

Damian felt his heart stutter as her face came into view. She was breath-taking. Her elfin face was flawless skin. Even from his vantage point he could see the brilliance of her sapphire eyes, pronounced by thick black eyelashes. 

The noise of the bar dulled in his ears as he gazed upon her, Jon’s voice rambling on about strange ladies on the rooftops of the French Quarter. One of them, Jon swore, was faintly glowing. But Damian did not hear a thing, it was as if he was hearing through water. He could faintly make out sounds of encouragement from the French group behind him. In the end nothing else matter, the world had zeroed in on this tiny angel on the stage before him.

Clutching the mic in both hands, the florescent wristband flashing on her left wrist, she drew a long breath and began to sing on cue.

“Life is a mystery…”

She brought the house down with her rendition of the Madonna classic. Jason whistling his encouragement. Dick and Jon enthusiastically clapping and cheering. Tim and Damian stupefied into silence, unconsciously clapping. As she made her way to her group, Damian and she briefly made eye contact. Time stood still. Damian stood and took a step towards her. She stopped before him. The two quietly gazing at each other.

“That was beautiful. Even better than the artist,” he softly commented her. A rosy hue bloomed on her cheeks, biting her lip in a shy smile, she began to wring her hands together, bashful at the compliment.

In the background you could hear the shattering of glass and the crowd heckled good naturedly on the slippery fingered patron. Jason had lost the grip on his pint glass that he had been raising to his mouth. His body unable to respond due to shock at the scene before him. Dick and Jon were flabbergasted. Tim was lost in a world of his own, admiring the vision before Damian and himself.

She raised her right hand demurely to Damian, “ _Merci. Je suis Marinette. Enchanté_.” He gently clasped the offered hand and shook. “Damian. The pleasure is all mine.” A smile alighting his swarthy face.

A screech erupted and the couple turned to see Jon wrapped around Dick like a child being held on the hip of a parent, the pair looking pale with shock. “It’s the sign of the Apocalypse! Jason, quick alert the parents. We need Zatanna and her lot on this! WE’RE NOT GONNA MAKE IT!!!” Dick ordered. Trying his best to sooth Jon.

“Tt… drama queens,” Damian muttered but found himself shoved to the side. 

“Hello, Mademoiselle. I’m Tim. This reprobate’s brother,” Tim said bowing and gently lifted her soft, delicate hand to his lips to place a courtly kiss on it.

Marinette giggled at the chivalrous melodrama. “It’s nice to meet you, Tim. I’m Marinette”

“Tell me, Marinette. Did I hear correctly, are you MDC?”

“Yes, indeed. I take it you’ve heard of me?”

“Correct. And may I say, your talent is nothing short of genius. I have greatly admired your work for a long time. I must say it must be Fate that we brought us together today.”

“Or perhaps, luck, Mister Tim,” she playfully retorted.

Damian shoulder bumped his brother; the two squaring off like two bucks ready to wrestle.

“ _Mari…tout va bien?_ ” a tall, blond young man came to the guys side interrupting the show down.

“ _Oui_ , _Adrien_. _Juste se faire de nouveaux amis_.” He eyed the Americans suspiciously before returning reluctantly to their table.

“Would you like to make more friends?” Damian asked. 

“That’s it! We’ve got a body snatcher on our hands,” Jason muttered to Dick and Jon.

The brothers and best friend watched while the younger brothers vied for the attentions of the young, French-Chinese (as it turns out) university student who was in New Orleans as a 21st birthday break (thought she arrived a week early so was still not of legal drinking age). Jason and Dick looked between the two males and then at each other and nodded in agreement. Jon stood at Dick’s back, his head on the elder’s shoulder, pouting like a toddler that his best friend was ignoring him. Jason stepped up and extracted Tim from the equation. Slinging an arm around his younger brother’s neck, Jason started to withdraw from the trio. “Replacement, a word.” This drew a look of disgruntlement on the Parisian’s face; she didn’t like Tim being address in such a way. “Down, girl. It’s a term of endearment between Tim and me. The same goes for Demon Spawn here,” he said cocking his head in Damian’s direction. Drawing attention back on to Damian, Marinette smiled up at him and they resumed their conversation.

Jason pulled Tim back to Dick and Jon; the young CEO starting to resist the redirection. “JASON!” he bit out.

“Cool it, Red. You didn’t stand a chance,” the second eldest apprized his younger brother.

“You don’t know that!”

“He’s right, Tim. Just look at them. You can practically see the strings of Fate tying these two together,” a soft voice spoke up from Jason’s elbow. All four jumped at the intrusion.

‘Hey, it’s you!” Jon exclaimed.

“Me? Me, who?” the petite woman looked around behind her.

“I saw you on the roof earlier,” Jon accused her.

“You must have mistaken me with some other Proto-Valkyrie,” she said absentmindedly.

“Phenïx?” Jason asked.

“Nïx,” she corrected, not breaking her gaze from the young couple in front of her.

“What are you?”

“Exactly what it says on the tin,” she replied, pointing to her T-shirt. The group of four eyed each other wearily. “Oh, I’ve got you something, Jay-bird.” Nix looked down and started patting her pockets. Pulling out a stick of melted metal she handed it to the stunned vigilante. This was getting seriously creepy. 

“What’s this?” he looked at the melted rod in confusion then to the being in front of him because she definitely wasn’t human.

“I’m a third-human; the rest pure Goddess and God, I’ll have you know,” she said raising her arms to the elbow and gave her audience a twirl. When she stopped, Jason tentatively reached out and lifted a braid away from her ear. She smirked as Jason’s mouth fell open as he looked upon a silky-smooth pointed ear, and dropped the braid. “You’re a fairy?” 

The smirk was replaced with a scowl. “Tt; typical, you come out here to deliver a present and people think you’re one of those little hookers,” she turned her head away, arms crossed in a temper. Outside lightening crackled, illuminating the night sky.

“We meant no offense, Nïx,” Dick said. “We have just never met someone of your...”

“Calibre? Stature? Grandness? Oh, Richard, you sweet talker you!!! No wonder you’re such a hit with the ladies... and a few of the guys as well.” Her banter was rewarded with the eldest brother glowing beetroot red.

“Jon?” Tim whispered.

“Her vitals are stable; she’s telling the truth. At least the truth as she knows it. But I can’t ‘see’ her. It’s as if she is cloaked by...”

“Magic,” the being in question finished for him. 

“So, you’re a magic user?” Tim asked.

“No. I am Magic. Two of my three parents are gods,” she corrected him.

Jason started to rub his forehead, trying to ease the tension. “Okay. And why would a being such as yourself what to associate with us mere mortals?”

“Oh, cherry-pie. You aren’t mere mortals. For one thing, you got a 19 year old half-Kryptonian hanging around with you and who happens to be your youngest brother’s best friend.”

They all stilled, looking around to see if anyone heard her. Damian and Marinette had navigated to her table of friends and introductions were being made. The rest of the staff and patrons weren’t paying attention to their little group.

“Don’t worry. No one pays attention to little-old me. Until it’s too late, then they learn their lesson and whine and bitch. It’s not like I didn’t try to warn them. Big babies. But I digress. As I was saying, there is an accession coming and I’m gathering the Vertas, the good guys, which you all are categorized as. Yes, even you Jason, despite violating Daddy’s ‘No Kill’ rule, and you know... that whole crime lord shtick you had going on for a while... you’re a good guy. Any who, I thought I start making friends with you and brought some gifts, in between averting despotic timelines and invasion/kidnappings from different dimensions and alternate realities. Oops, that hasn’t occurred yet, has it? You know I can’t keep track of all these Apocalyptic events.”

Looking down at the rod again, Jason ask, “Uh... thank you... but what is it?”

“Oh, silly me! That’s the instrument of your torture,” she exclaimed cheerily. “Yeah, yeah. I returned it to the jester after he blew up Metropolis but before Big Blue put his fist through his chest. Ungrateful clown! He didn’t enjoy that. Well... not the electricity bit. Up until then, he was all giggles. That man needs help,” Nix said tapping a finger against her chin in contemplation.

“My dad would never...!” The son coming to his father’s defence, eyes glowing, Dick trying to calm him down.

“Tim?”

“According to security, he’s where he’s supposed to be. But I’ll have Bats check.”

“Oh, wait. Am I mixing up my plains of existence again? There are so many it’s hard to keep track. Alas, I must dash. A Goddess of Accession and Match-Maker’s work is never done. Hope you like your present, Jay-Jay! I put a lot of thought into it. And I know Damian appreciates his,” she said winking conspiratorially to the four. “Good luck in Paris! Give Hawk Moth a dig for me!” she said as she jumped up to place a goodbye kiss on each man’s cheek (after getting permission first) but only ruffled Jon's hair, treating him like the exuberant puppy that he was. The next moment they were a quartet again.

The four looked at each other in confusion. “We got to report this in, and definitely get Zatanna on the case,” Dick advised. They were interrupted by Damian as he and Marinette approached them.

“The time for underage patron must vacate is in ten minutes. We are going for beignets and hot chocolate at Café Du Monde, do you wish to go?” the birthday boy asked reluctantly.

“Sure,” Dick spoke for the group. “Sounds like fun.” Jason, Jon and Tim looked at him, he sighed. “There’s not much else we can do but to report events to the others. Maybe they’ll be able to shed some light on what just occurred. But for now, let’s grant the birthday boy’s wish and go for beignets.”

“What did I miss?” Damian asked. Marinette looking as confused as he at their strange conversation.

“Nothing to worry about, Little D,” Dick said waving off his concerns. “Ssssoooo, Marinette. Got any available, older sisters?” he asked coming to her side and tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow, drawing her away from the scowling birthday boy.

She giggled at his question. “No. But we recently discovered an unknown branch of my family from my Papa’s side; all females. I actually came to New Orleans to get better acquainted with them. Some of my friends decided to tag along and make a holiday of it. A few are married but I think there are some singletons amongst them. I’ll have to ask my Aunt Nïx.”

The guys stopped and looked at her in astonishment. Damian and Marinette looked at each other and shrugged off the guys unusual behaviour. Damian offered the crook of his elbow and Marinette abandoned Dick for him, making their way to the exit. The blond friend came up to the four and introduced himself.

“Hi, I’m Adrien Agreste. Marinette is one of my best friends. You must be Jason, Richard, Timothy and Jonathan.” Damian had obviously been talking about them. “Let me introduce you to the rest of our friends...”

🦇🐞🦇🐞🦇🐞🦇🐞🦇

Caf é Du Monde, Decatur Street, New Orleans, Louisiana

“I’m in the Big Easy. It’s 2a.m. and I’m not lying in a pool of my own vomit,” Jason muttered, looking around the brightly lit patio of the world-famous Café Du Monde near Jackson Square. Reflecting on that night’s events, he finished, “Definitely, I’m in the Twilight Zone.”

The two groups had melded together seamlessly. Their mutual friends lost in a world of their own; their conversation flashing between English, French and Mandarin, with Damian teaching Marinette some Arabic phrases. Conversation had paused when a bat came and landed on Damian’s head again, chirping excited to the young man. Marinette giggling, reaching up to pet the squatter. “Bertil, shouldn’t you be at home?” she asked. He chittered in response and became alert when a voice in the distance broke the quiet of the streets. “Bertil, you naughty boy! I said no more beignets! You must start looking after your figure!” The bat immediately took flight and left Damian’s hair mused. Marinette chuckled as she reached up to try and tame his mane of jet black hair.

“You know that chiroptera?”

“Yes, he’s my aunt’s pet. He usually doesn’t stray far from her so she must be nearby. I hope she is OK.”

 _Don’t worry, kid. That being is probably the most dangerous creature on the streets tonight_ , Jason thought, still unnerved at the conversation they had.

The couple started whispering to each other, both typing on their phones, exchanging vital data. Marinette grasped Damian’s hand, excitement burning in her eyes. “Oh, I would love to!” she exclaimed. They both stood up and turned to their melded groups. 

“We must return to the hotel to rest. In the morning we are going to Gotham,” Damian announced.

“Say what now?” Tim tiredly looked up from the coffee and chicory he was nursing. Jon also looking away from whatever Adrien was saying, the Metropolite’s face covered in beignet powder. Dick and Jason coming to alert, breaking off from their conversations with Marinette’s friends.

“Damian invited us to a birthday party. I hope that’s OK,” Marinette said, starting to look apprehensive as everyone began to gather up their property and dispose of their used porcelain, Damian’s brothers did not seem in favour of the change of plans.

“Sure. The more the merrier. We’ll get everything sort,” Dick reassured her.

“We’ll meet you outside our hotel at 10a.m. and go to the bus centre together,” Adrien suggested. The brothers looked at each other.

“Don’t worry, Adrien, we’ll sort out the travel arrangements,” Jon replied.

The group started winding their way through the streets of the French Quarter, avoiding the still buzzing atmosphere of Bourbon Street. Jason looking forlornly at all the fun others were having. Somehow he and his brothers managed to become babysitters for the French university students, not the weirdest thing to happen tonight.

When the time came for the group to go their separate ways, Damian and Marinette were reluctant to leave each other’s side. “You’ll see each other in a few hours,” Jason griped. “Come on, Demon Spawn. This is your idea after all.”

As the couple held on to each other’s hands; jade gazing into sapphire, Damian promised, “We will take the greatest care of you and your friends, my Angel. It would be my honour and privilege to see that you enjoy your time in Gotham. And do not worry about losing time with your relatives, I shall return with you and see you safely back with them. I may even stay and enjoy more of the wonders of this city by your side. With your permission, of course.”

“And if you’re worried about us being homicidal maniacs, I believe your Aunt Nïx will vouch for us,” Jason butted in, breaking their little cocoon.

“You know Aunt Nïx?”

“Like it was only yesterday,” he replied rubbing his temples.

Marinette giggled at the gesture. “She does seem to have that effect on people.”

“Marinette, come on. We need to organise,” one of her troupe called from a distance.

“Coming!” Looking to Damian, she squeezed his hands before letting go to follow her friends. “See you in a few hours,” she promised as she ran after her friends. He smiled and waved when she turned to wave them farewell.

“Come on, lover boy,” Dick slung an arm over the young man’s shoulder. “We need to follow suit,” he advised turning Damian in the direction of their hotel.

“See you guys at the gala,” Jon said dashing into a nearby alley to disappear.

As they slowly made their way to the hotel, Dick talked animatedly about the new friends they made; Tim walking in a cloud of manic energy, working frantically on his phone; Jason stretching his arms up to lock his hands behind his head, a lit cigarette hanging from his lips; a quiet (which is usual) Damian smiling periodically (which is unusual) at a stray thought. A stray thought about whom?

“I thought the saying was ‘Whatever happens in New Orleans, stays in New Orleans’?” someone (not Damian) asked in a moment of silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this short story. Not the greatest, I feel like there's some weak bits in the second chapter, but not bad considering I only worked from two scenes.
> 
> I don't have to say it, do I? Don't be running off to Gotham (or any other city) or galas with someone you just met. Be sensible and safe. As the Chapter Title (and Elsa, Frozen, 2013) says, "You can't marry a man you just met." That's why I requested disbelief to be suspended, because in general people would not run off to the wide-blue-yonder with someone (and his group of friends) they just met. Or go "Eh. We'll sort it out later." when an apparent supernatural creature is rambling on to you about your secret identities and multiple dimensions/timelines/worlds.
> 
> The karaoke bar is my own creation. I know the drinking age is 21 in the US, so I needed to get Marinette (who is turning 21 soon after Damian) and her 'underage' friends into the bar somehow so I made up that 18 - 20 year old rule. Though don't think this warrants an 'underage' tag for the story.
> 
> Even though this was a Daminette oneshot - Jason really took centre stage, along with Nïx. Maybe they will pair up to do battle for the Vertas in the forth coming Accession. Who knows. But it's got me re-reading/re-listening to I.A.D. series again. I've missed it.  
> I had thought to make the story a love triangle between Marinette, Damian and Tim but Nïx said that made things too complicated.
> 
> I was lazy that's why only Adrien had a talking part of the French group. I'll leave it up to you to imagine who else was there.
> 
> Google Translate:  
> Mari…tout va bien? Mari... everything OK?  
> Oui, Adrien. Juste se faire de nouveaux amis. Yes, Adrien. Just making some new friends.  
> Merci. Je suis Marinette. Enchanté. Thank you. I am Marinette. Nice to meet you. (Didn't need a translator for this one! My G.C.S.E. French came in handy.)
> 
> Wikipedia:  
> chiroptera - bats
> 
> Take care! Stay safe!


End file.
